Kiss Me Twice, Girl
by GreenCookie
Summary: Akira's on a mission to capture the heart of a girl, but it's taking a hell lot longer than what he's use to. Juz light reading. Please R&R!
1. First Installment

Disclaimer: Anything appearing here that has previously appeared in any other form does not belong to me. No copyright infringement intended.

AN: Hope you all like this. Happy reading and please review.

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Kiss Me Twice, Girl 

1: The bell had just sounded at Eitoku Academy, signaling the end of yet another class period and the beginning of lunch. A steady stream of chattering students filtered through the double glass doors of the cafeteria, and within minutes the lunch area was filled.

From a small corner table, one girl stood and began making her way to the other side of the cafeteria. Tamiko Kei was, admittedly, nervous. It wasn't everyday a student had to confer with the rulers of Eitoku, F4…and those who did, rarely came away from it unscathed.

F4.

Kei gulped. She was only halfway to their reserved table space but already she could feel her heart beating as if attempting to smash its way out of her ribcage. Her two hands, holding a sheaf of printed paper, were moist as she clutch them to her chest as if they would serve as a shield. She would have willingly, gladly, avoided F4 for all her student terms here at the college and even after, but circumstances were against her. Her legs carried her closer and closer to the danger zone.

F4.

They were within her sight now, sitting at their owned table, talking amongst themselves. There was Doumyouji Tsukasa, the leader of the group, whose fiery temper and limited patience was infamous at the college. Students who even tried a little of his patience received the ever dreaded 'red note'. His hair was in its trademark 'pineapple' do; a ridiculous imitation of a lion's mane…not that anyone would have dared say so. Aside from that, he was extremely handsome, with chiseled features and dark brows that furrowed over his eyes. Kei knew, one caustic look from those eyes and she was a dead girl. She made a note to avoid looking into his eyes if possible.

Beside him was Hanazawa Rui, who rarely spoke a word at all. And yet, when he did, every word had to be noted and obeyed, not only because he was one of F4, but also because his quietly enigmatic personality exuded an aura of expectancy. He was one of the four kings at Eitoku, and Hanazawa knew that very well. Having had experienced a small dose of his persona in her junior year, Kei might say that he was the least precarious member of the group…but even then, she wouldn't try him.

On the other side of the table, side by side, sat the two reputed playboys of the group. Nishikado Soujiro, with his glass spectacles, one arm dangling over the back of the chair. The most courteous of the group, he was one of his father's best representative in both society events and business functions and his face appeared time and time again in the papers. But Kei had heard, that despite the gentlemanly way of dress and speech, the straight-back, proud-faced player of F4 had laid more ladies than Casanova and dumped each one within a week. But even then, he couldn't compete with Akira.

Mimasaka Akira. The last of the four lounged in his seat, knees tipping the chair back on two legs, teasing gravity with a cheeky smile on his face. His longish hair fell about his charismatic features that had bought so many girls to throw themselves at him. He was said to have his own way of dealing with his enemies; he played by way of women. His carefree, confident and flirtatious manner had been craftily incorporated into everything he did and he killed hearts and spirits, purely by charm. Kei was exceedingly terrified of him and yet, he was the one she needed to see.

Taking a deep breath, Kei approached the table and bowed her head, waiting for the breath of silence that meant they had noticed she was there. When it came, she lifted her head and drew a shaky smile. "I'm sorry to disturb you," she began, noting the squeaky voice coming from her mouth was definitely not her own. She turned to face Akira. "Mimasaka, because you weren't present at our last history lesson, Roi-sensei asked me to give you this."

She handed over the papers in her hand, feeling the heat rise through her neck as he move slightly from his position of staring at her with nonchalant eyes to take the papers from her. He began to glance through the first bundled booklet, making her jump slightly when he spoke again.

"Why didn't he just give it to me at our next lesson?" he asked with a smile that suggested perhaps it was because Kei herself had wanted to approach him. She could feel a vehement blush exploding through her cheeks.

"It was because some research needs to be done before the next class," she explained, drawing in a deep breath in hope that it would cool her cheeks. "Also, if you've noticed on the second page of the booklet, it's a paired assignment. I'm…I'm your partner."

Soujiro could hold it no longer; he allowed a small chuckle to escape. He could see that this slim, cutesy girl was plainly terrified of being within ten feet of them. For goodness sake, she had flushed when Akira _smiled_ at her. If he knew his friend as well as he thought he did, the poor thing would be scarred for life by the end of the project. Even Tsukasa was grinning at the absurdity of the situation.

Rui however, kept a more composed front. He gestured towards the other booklet that Akira was now engrossed in. "I suppose that was the last essay you had to do?" She nodded. "How did you go, Akira?"

"Ninety-four percent," the boy drawled in his reply. He dropped the documents back onto the table and resumed balancing the chair on two legs, this time with a proud smile. "No one can beat the keeper of time, the master of all histories, the genius of things gone by…me." He lifted his arms in the air as an exaggerated sign of acceptance to his own brilliance. Raising his eyebrows at Kei, he asked, "How bout you?"

Kei swallowed. She was dead, very much so. She couldn't risk not answering, that would mean offending him, but if she did… "Ninety-five percent."

The two floating legs of the chair hit the floor with a smack as Tsukasa and Soujiro erupted in guffaws. This time, even Rui smiled.

"You were saying, Akira?"

The playboy was staring at her, eyes narrowly questioning. Then he broke into an engaging smile.

"That's alright. At least I was beaten by a pretty girl."

She hated this. He was obviously, too obviously, flirting with her and she had no idea what to do. It wasn't that she was completely new to the game of flirting, but this was Akira! Mimasaka Akira of F4! Something– no, everything about him left her completely clueless as how to react. She was suddenly helpless, and helpless was not a situation she liked to be in. Her fear of F4 reached new heights and she bowed her head as not to see the grins that were directed at her now as the other three returned to watch Akira play her like a cat with a toy.

"I'll be going now…" she murmured, her voice barely audible. Then, without waiting for a response, she turned away, to scurry back across the cafeteria, back across to her friends and her comfort zone. But he stopped her, calling out with laughter in his voice.

"I'll meet you after classes tomorrow to _discuss_ the assignment."

"Yes, Akira," she replied and scampered for her life, leaving the four boys staring after her, smiles lingering on their lips. Soujiro was the first to comment, turning to his friend with raised eyebrows and a wide grin.

"Mimasaka Akira, by the time you guys are done with this assignment, you would've _killed_ her."

"No, I wouldn't," Akira drawled, perfectly aware that he would. His heart was one of a bully's, if truth be told, because after all the girls who fell for his charms, here was one who couldn't even respond to them…and he was liking it. She was so plainly afraid of him that playing her would be…amusing, to say the least. "Oh, by the way, do any of you know who she is? She says she's from my history class but I've never seen her before."

"Maybe she just moved here," Tsukasa suggested, popping a slab of meat into his mouth and chewing it roughly. "I have no idea who she is either."

"Her name's Tamiko Kei and she's been here since we were here," Rui inputted. His voice bore no tone of exasperation; he knew his friends well enough to know that they paid little attention to anyone. "She was in our history class last semester, Akira, but this semester, the class got too big so they split it in two. She's not in mine so she must be in yours."

Akira glanced down at the booklets in front of him. "Looks like it doesn't it? Well, well… then Kei and I are going to have some fun…" He caught Soujiro's eye and the two of them began to laugh.

Tsukasa rolled his eyes. "She's just like a little girl, Akira. She doesn't seem your type."

"Hey, Mimasaka Akira can be any type," Akira shot back, a look of mock hurt crossing his face. His friend's only reply was another expressive roll of his eyes. "Fine…I'll leave the little girl alone. You're right. She's not really my type after all."

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AN: Well, how goes it? Please review!


	2. Second Installment

Disclaimer: Anything appearing here that has previously appeared in any other form does not belong to me.

AN: Thanks to reviewers and on Cooking Pot's advice, I have changed all the Chinese names to their Japanese counterparts, the original HYD version. Happy reading and please review!

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Kiss Me Twice, Girl 

2: Kei stared up at the clock, ticking above the droning teacher's head. This was probably the only literature lesson she had not paid attention in. But you couldn't blame her. The last class of the day and only two minutes before the end. Two minutes before the bell rung. Two minutes before another round of vulnerability with Akira. She had almost considered skipping the last class and avoiding him but courage had deserted her from the moment the thought entered her head. Standing up an F4 when you wanted to live long was not a good idea.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

One and a half more minutes.

She couldn't believe she had gotten paired with him. She must have been the only girl who didn't want to get stuck with him, she thought, remembering the icy stares the other girls had passed her when Roi-sensei had called out her name and his. Someone up there must hate me, she decided gloomily. I've probably done something bad in my past life to get stuck with him. He'll probably do no work and I'll probably do it all and say nothing because I know better than to stand up to an F4. I know better, or I'm a coward, she thought, sinking further into the gloom pits.

When the bell chime exploded, she gathered her belongings reluctantly, packing them into her blue shoulder bag slowly. So slowly, she was the last one to walk out of the class. Outside, she glanced around. He had said he would meet her.

"Took your sweet time, didn't you?" a voice said from behind her. There he was, leaning coolly against the wall, dressed with style and accompanied by the traditional cheeky grin. As always. She sighed inwardly.

"Good afternoon, Mimasaka," she said, bowing her head.

"Afternoon yourself," he replied. "Let's go." He set off at a brisk pace, Kei trailing behind slightly.

"If you don't mind me asking, Mimasaka, where are we going?"

"To the library," he replied over his shoulder. "Isn't that where most research is done?" She shrugged. It made sense to her. "Hurry up. I don't have all day."

She tried, increasing her pace rapidly but his considerable strides propelled him further than she could keep with. It was only when they reached the doors of the library that he stopped and waited for her. She arrived there, slightly out of breath, only managing to nod when he asked whether she was alright. Inside, they found an unoccupied table…it wasn't hard considering the library totaled a current population of six: the two of them and four librarians.

"So…" he said, draping himself over the back of the chair. His eyes were fixed on her expectantly. "I read the assignment. 'Choose a notable period in history and provide a presentation on one aspect of it. E.g. heroes, beliefs, apparel.' Am I right?" She nodded mutely. Now he leaned forward, a sudden eagerness on his face. "I thought architecture, in the medieval stages. Since the medieval time isn't part of recent history, i.e. the last five centuries, it lacks _absolute_ certainty but still has distinct characteristics. And as for architecture, we could build models or a model, which will definitely be more interesting to do than just research and a talk. What do you think, gorgeous?"

Was he actually giving her a choice?

"Um, architecture sounds good," she replied meekly, feeling confused. There was something distinctly different from the Akira she had talked to yesterday. His words were still as carefully chosen as ever, and the sassy tease would always be established within his nature…but they no longer had the coaxing lure of promise they had possess yesterday. And when he called over the library assistant-in-training, a young woman in her early twenties, making her giggle with honey-sweet words and his light hand on her wrist, Kei knew what it was. He had turned off the Mimasaka charm with her.

She was, in a word, relieved. In several words, very very relieved. In a sentence, so relieved she could have died right then and there and have had a happy life. In a paragraph -

"Yo! Helloooo?" Akira was standing in front of her, carrying a stack of heavy volumes. When she looked up meekly, he dropped the books on the table lightly with an odd stare. "The library assistant brought these over. You can look through them. I'm going to use the net."

"Okay," she replied to a retreating back. She sighed and picked up the first book.

An hour later, she laid down the last volume with another sigh. She had been through four books already, four large, heavy, dusty, boring books already and had less than half a page of notes. What a complete waste of time. That librarian must have been too busy giggling with Akira to pick good material, she thought sourly.

But that was unfair and she knew it.

Glancing at her watch, it read half past four. She had to go soon so she might as well pick up some books to take home. She patted her pockets in search for her student card, then sifted through the books and notes on the table. Nothing. Thinking back, she vaguely remembered herself placing the card into her literature diary...and leaving the diary in her locker. She could've kicked herself.

She set off towards the shelves anyway, deciding she would place the books on reserve first and return later in the evening to pick them up.

The library's bookshelves boasted thousands and thousands of volumes, all arranged neatly by subject yet occasionally one would come across a dark corner where the books sat higgled-piggled, forgotten by even the library staff. Kei ran a finger over the spine of a thick red book, glancing admiringly at the dust that came off onto her finger. _Architecture Through Time_. It might come into use, she thought, wiggling it out with a finger.

As she turned the corner, she stumbled across a figure sitting on the floor. The book in her hand fell heavily into his lap and Kei felt her heart shudder as she recognised the swing of the long hair.

Akira rose, his eyes icy, the book balancing precariously on the tip of his fingers.

He realised who it was as Kei bent forward, palms on her thighs, stuttering an apology. Rolling his eyes, he pushed the book her way. "Alright already. Take the book." She did so with trembling fingers. "Did you want to leave? We've been here an hour. Surely, you've got things to do. Friends to meet, guys to date, er, family to spend time with I suppose."

" I just came to pick up some books to reserve."

"Did you forget your card?"

"Yes, Mimasaka. But I thought I'll -"

"Use mine. Here." He produced a student card from his back pocket. As she took it, his fingers brushed hers ever so slightly and she dropped it. Passing an exasperated sigh, he said, "Man, it's just a card. How heavy can it be?"

And again, she bent over, murmuring apologies of a sort. Akira knew the school supposedly lived in fear of him and his three friends, and Kei's character was nothing new to him, but today, it aggravated him for a particular reason.

"What's up with all the bowing and the apologising? Couldn't you show a little bit of personal pride instead of kneeling and bowing and scraping the ground? F4 is F4 but why the hell are you _that _terrified of us?" This had all left his mouth in one breath before he wondered whether he had spent too many years with Tsukasa.

Kei stared at him. Perhaps it was the slightly irritated look on his face, or the fact that she had found him cubbying in a corner of the library of all places, or perhaps simply the fact that his hair was slightly tousled, something that never happened with Akira, but suddenly she found herself blurting out the reasons of why she regarded F4 as the monsters from hell.

Out from her mouth came all the stories of terror from ex-students, the rumours that ran their round each and every day and the legend of the dreaded 'red note', even the unanimous emotions of the students when an F4 passed. She expected him to understand now why she was 'bowing and scraping' and apologising her head off for every bump and sound when normally she wouldn't have apologised if she had ran over someone's family, and if he, Akira sir, would please, to expect it for the rest of time she was working with him and the time he held the power of F4 and possibly even after that.

And when finally she managed to clap a hand over her mouth, she could only gaze at him in horror of her impetinence and Akira himself could only say, "We're not _that_ bad."

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AN: So ends the second installment. Thoughts anyone? Please review!


	3. Third

Disclaimer: Anything appearing here that has previously appeared in any other form does not belong to me. No copyright infringement intended.

AN: Thanks to reviewers. Hope you like this installment and please review!

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Kiss Me Twice, Girl 

3: She couldn't run from it, she couldn't hide from it, she couldn't even ignore it. Even when she closed her eyes, she could see a red glare through the thin epithelium of her eyelids. A red bag, a red shirt, red hair, a red notebook. Even the pink shirt she had decided to wear that morning was taking on a reddish tint.

This was her own fault, she knew. How could she have possibly been so stupid to have said the things she said yesterday. She could already imagine the red note, sitting there in all its silent threat, just waiting for her.

"_And she said we wrecked lives! And destroyed the dreams of students! Killed the spirit of good people whose only mistake in life was to cross our path! Those were her exact words!"_

She didn't even know why she had bothered to come to school today, if to simply collect her books and return home again, in disgrace. Her mother was going to be furious. Her dad was going to murder her. Maybe they would kick her out of home and she would end up on the streets as a beggar. Once a proud member of the Tamiko family, then a street imposer, rejected and laughed at by society.

"_Then she said everyone regarded us as the sea dragons of Eitoku. To quote, proud and snobbish, notorious for the temper. One wrong move, annoy the dragons and they were eaten, swallowed without being chewed, to join the other mass of students in the depths of their belly."_

She could see her locker now, just one wooden block for a door in the midst of many. Now that she thought about it, she really was in an unlucky area. Three students had disappeared from that particular line of lockers; all unfortunate victims of F4.

Where had everyone gone?

That was a bad sign.

A very very very bad sign.

"_What nerve! We don't wreck anyone's lives, or destroy or kill or_ eat _anything. We…we simply…"_

"Simply show them in our own little ways that where they are…" 

"_Is unsuitable for their personal standards and_ our _personal standards."_

"_Exactly."_

She stared at the knob of the locker door. What waited for her inside was inevitable…but by rule, her own fault. She had known the consequences of aggravating F4 and yet, that day, she had allowed her feelings to escape that traitor mouth of hers.

"_I think we ought to show her just how nice we can be."_

She had to open it. Gazing in terror at it the whole day wouldn't help in the least. The sooner, the better. Her trembling hand reached for the knob.

"_Akira can do it."_

A streak of red crossed her vision. A red note with gold print fluttered to the floor, brushing past the front of her shoes as it settled at her feet, the brilliant gold ink glinting innocently at her.

"Kei! Hey, Kei, you idiot, wait up!"

A voice was calling after her, but she could barely hear it. She continued walking down the corridor, her footsteps light on the concrete floor, her heart and mind heavy within her body.

It was over. It was all over. She was a disgrace to her entire family. She could only imagine what her parents would say, the torture her sister would have to endure in her junior year at the college, the rumours that would spread upon entry into a new school.

The red note. She hadn't even the strength to collect her books after that. She had simply turned and started walking away. She had heard a thud, and knew it was her heart hitting the ground. The sound replayed itself in her head. And again. And again.

Until she realized it wasn't her heart, but the sound of running feet behind her.

"Kei, wait up, alright! What's the matter with you? Which part of wait up did you not get?" Akira said, slowing to a walk beside her.

She turned her head to look at him. He wasn't even out of breath, she thought, disgusted. His hair wasn't even tousled. His clothes weren't even mussed. His eyes weren't even regretful. He didn't even care that he had one quart part in the destruction of her life. From that moment, she could feel the fury of hate bubbling up through her blood.

But once again, she was helpless.

Why do anything to make it worse? F4 didn't only dominate the school, they manipulated powers outside in society too. Why make it worse for herself or her family? The anger inside of her ebbed away leaving the thick bitterness of loathing. She turned away from him, staring straight ahead; her only aim to reach her car.

"Um, is something wrong?" he asked, tentatively. She felt like screaming at him. The nerve of asking whether something was wrong when he had just passed her a red note! But instead:

"No, Mimasaka."

"Well, are you upset?" he tried again.

"No, Mimasaka."

"Cause if it's about that red note, it was just a joke."

Kei jerked to a stop and he too, stopped expectantly. She turned her eyes onto his and he gave her stare for stare, his eyes playfully innocent.

"A joke?" she repeated uncertainly.

"Yep," he replied, resting a well-muscled arm across her shoulder. She allowed herself to be turned around and walked back from whence she came. "I was waiting round to tell you, and yeah, well, to catch your reaction, but you just took off faster than Soujiro after a pretty young thing."

"But after what I –" she stopped abruptly. Perhaps it would be better not to remind him.

"Pfff," was his response, blowing out from his cheeks like one did to a candle. "Don't worry about it. My ego's not as big as you make it out to be, not so big that it deflates with a single insult. Or multiple insults."

"Oh," she said weakly. She was slowly regaining awareness to herself and her surroundings, now vaguely aware of the blurry blobs of human life forms gazing in the vicinity of her direction. "I…I want to apologise –" but he waved it away dismissively.

"What do you have first?"

"Uh, Literature," she replied, now aware that his arm was still laid casually across her shoulders.

"Then I'm going your way." She swallowed slightly as he turned a pair of twinkling eyes at her. Look away, look away, she told herself frantically. Look away before –

But then it was too late. As his dimples appeared, dancing in and out of his cheeks, she found herself nodding.

"Okay," she replied, her free will assailed and she allowed him to lead the way.

She laid down her tray onto her regular lunch table and slid softly into her seat. "Hey guys," she greeted her friends, beginning to unwrap the tuna sandwich she had chosen.

"Oh. My. God," was her friend, Julie's, reaction. The others, upon hearing her voice, snapped around eagerly, all peering excitedly at her face. "Kei, you sly flirt!"

"Huh?"

"Is it denial? Oh Lord forbid!" Julie exclaimed dramatically, causing neighboring tables to glance across curiously. Kei could feel her cheeks firing as she wondered about the other's spectacle.

"Julie, shut up, would you? What the hell are you going on about?" she hissed with a mouth full of tuna.

"I saw you with him!" her friend accused. She beckoned knowingly towards the other girls seated around the table. "_We_ saw you with him!"

"Who?"

"Akira!" the table (with the exception of her) cried.

"What?! You guys know I'm working with him for the history assignment! Stop carping about nothing would you?"

"Oh really?" Julie challenged, moving closer. "Does a history assignment really require him to talk to you like this?" Julie was so close Kei could feel her friend's cool, minted breathing in her ear. "Or for him to look over your shoulder like this?" Julie rested an arm on both sides of Kei, encaging her, pretending to study at the salad on her tray. "Or for him to call you _gorgeous_… _little lady_… _baby_…?" She raised an eyebrow at her friend. "So, are you guys working together or working _together_, huh?"

Kei stared at Julie, exasperated. "We're working together, Julie. Christ, you know as well as I do what Akira is like…"

"I don't know…maybe you found out more hey?" her friend put in nonchalantly.

Kei gave a frustrated sigh.

"This is an F4 alright? Flirt with an F4? Ha! I'll sooner swim with sharks, the risks that are involved! I'm not some dumb chick who falls for Akira's lame liners and long hair and cute smiles and then gets my own heart broken because I was stupid enough to believe him when he said I'm the greatest girl in the world."

"But you got to like him a teensy, weensy bit right? I'm mean, him being gorgeous and all?" Julie asked, eyes focused on a random point behind Kei's shoulders. She should've realized then but she didn't. Instead:

"No!" she replied in a low growl. "Look, this is just an assignment together. Once it's over, it's over and I'll thank God if I never have to see his face again!"

"And I was beginning to think I was winning you over," a familiar drawl said, causing an icy covering to freeze over Kei's heart. She knew all too well who had spoken, and mentally dying, she turned to face him.

Akira stood behind her, in a characteristic slouch, thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans, his hair swinging low across his face and a small smile on his face. He watched and her friends looked on as she stammered a sort of reply; then she fell silent, cursing herself for seriously blowing it this time round, and he spoke.

"You really hate us, don't you?" he remarked, almost nonchalantly though she could detect a faint trace of disappointment in his voice.

Wait a minute, she stopped herself. Disappointment? Since when did an F4 care what people thought of them?

Automatically she had begun to protest: of course she didn't hate them, it had just been a figure of speech, and again, she apologized for insulting him…but when he lifted a hand to sweep back one side of long tresses, she digressed.

"I guess I'm just going to have to try harder then."

Her head jerked up in a sudden motion, her eyes meeting his to find not a tease; he was serious. Ignoring the squeals from her friends behind, she tried a valiant attempt to gather her thoughts and reinstate them but for an odd reason, her head was decidedly muddled. The Akira she had thought was, was indeed and yet wasn't. If that made any sense at all.

"Here you go," he said, and she took the item he offered. It was a small cup of Peters vanilla ice cream. "I thought you might want some. I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Kei." And then he headed back to his table on the other side of the cafeteria, leaving her staring down at his sweet gift, the sound of her friends' sickly crooning in her ears.

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AN: Review please. Thanks to **lelepanne, ToinKs, Cooking Pot, Yumez, cyanthis, Meteorsunrise, Fuyu, martian doll**.


	4. Fourth Part

Disclaimer: Anything appearing here that has previously appeared in any other form does not belong to me. No copyright infringement intended.

AN: I had heaps of fun writing this one so I hope you guys enjoy it! Please review!

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Kiss Me Twice, Girl 

4: It was just another day for her as she crawled down the stairs of her home and dropping into her seat at the dining table laden with breakfast delicacies, greeted her parents good morning. Their cheerful reply resounded in her ears as she reached across for a slice of toast before she realized something was different.

She looked up cautiously, observing her grinning parents through narrowed eyes. Something was definitely different. Not wrong, she didn't think, just…different.

"Why are you guys holding hands?" she asked suspiciously.

"Tamiko Kei!" her mother rebuked, though with a reckless grin still hanging off her face. "We are married you know!"

"No, I didn't mean that…I know you're married," she muttered, embarrassed. She tried to explain. "It's just that, you guys don't usually hold hands. Especially not in the morning. You're both usually too….too…you know." She pulled a face, a gruesome imitation of the older members of society as they were before the required daily dose of caffeine.

"Kei, show a bit of respect," her father warned.

"Sorry. But you know what I mean."

"Today's a special day that's all," her mother giggled, childishly endearing as she tugged her partner towards her to plant a quick kiss on his lips.

Kei grimaced and about to express her opinions on too much family sharing, a thought struck her and she gazed at them, horror residing in her eyes.

"I didn't forget your anniversary, did I? Oh mum, dad, I'm so sor…" A shake of her mother's head left her words trailing. Exasperation crept up on her. "Well, what is it then?"

"Kei, dear, how could you possibly forget the one day dedicated to young lovers? Today is…"

"Madams, sir. A Valentine delivery has arrived for the young mistress." A maid stepped into the dining hall, dressed smartly in the black and blue colours of the household staff, interrupting Kei's mother politely. In her hand she held a small envelope, which she then offered to the confused girl.

A Valentine delivery for her? She racked her brains, attempting to realize exactly who it could be, all the while her fingers wrenching the envelope open eagerly. A single sheet of card slid smoothly out, a carefully perfected scrawl written on it.

_A rose for every time you've insulted me and I've forgiven you._

_Happy Valentine's Day._

_Mimasaka Akira._

She looked up to face the endless multitude of red flora that streamed through the door, each bouquet carried by a loyal servant of the Tamiko household.

"Kei," her mother said and Kei glanced up at her tone. "Remember what your father and I said about meeting any guy you chose to see. Who is this person? Why haven't you told us about him?"

Wordlessly, Kei handed over the card, her eyes still fixed upon the roses that continued to invade the room. Even without looking, she knew her when her mother's eyes would widen in revelation, as would her father's who would have been reading over the shoulder of his wife.

"Akira? Are we talking about Akira of Mimasaka Enterprises? Father being on the board of directors for Eitoku?"

Her father's voice had grown distant with every word he utter, until he was an external sound as she dissolved into her world of thought. But still, she nodded a reply. "The one and same."

"I never knew you were involved with Mimasaka Akira, Kei."

The subtle eagerness in her mother's faint voice was amusing.

"I'm not," she replied softly, almost as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact.

Half an hour later, she murmured a goodbye to her chauffeur, climbed out of the luxurious backseat of the Bentley and after a furtive glance around, she made her way up the stone steps of Eitoku.

Akira was being nice, extraordinarily nice, but somehow the idea of attracting the attention of an F4 member still scared her. She wasn't one of those people who stood in awe of F4 and sucked up to them at every chance possible. Rather, she was one of the small minority who stood in awe and stood far away in awe. She sighed, confused with too many thoughts and fears, and rubbed her head. She couldn't be bothered justifying her decision of avoiding Mimasaka Akira today; she would rather just say it was a gut instinct.

A proverbial swish of long locks heading her way in the far end of the corridor caused her to panic, disappearing quickly around the first corner she came to. She waited, her heart palpitating, pressing her body hard against the wall as if hoping she would blend into the stone, and only when he had passed, deep in conversation with Soujiro, an occasional gesture of the hand and the usual cluster of admiring ladies behind, only then did she scuttle hastily for her locker.

A glance at her watch told that her evasion of Akira had set her back a few minutes and her first class began far too soon for her liking. She yanked opened the small door of her locker, springing back in shock as a flurry of red cascaded its way out. She closed her eyes, one hand upon her heart, then slowly opened one, almost afraid that it was an unpleasant gift of love, of red notes from F4 and perhaps the roses sent this morning had only meant to deceive her.

Instead, she was met with the vision of soft petals fluttering down to join the mass burying her feet. She looked up, almost gawking, to find a familiar looking envelope sitting innocently on her History text. And again the casually perfect scrawl:

_A rose petal for every time you're going to insulted me and I'm going to forgive you._

_Happy Valentine's Day._

_Mimasaka Akira._

She groaned, knocking her head lightly against the neighbouring lockers in vexation but later on, as she closed the door on a few deliberately ignored petals and made her way down the empty corridors to class, she couldn't deny the smallest of smiles to pass by her lips.

The school hours slipped by without any other roses, envelopes or Mimasaka Akira in sight and when the last bell had rung, she had shed her vigilant look-out for him. Waving a final goodbye to the last of her friends, she made her way through the rapidly emptying school halls, humming a little tune.

Life was suddenly looking up again it seemed. Tenori-sensei, the Art teacher, who so rarely complimented, had praised her recent art piece to the sky this morning and Kei still glowed with the memory. A friend had invited her to a girls only sleepover that night, in order to celebrate their singledom this particular Valentine's day. The History assignment was due on Friday; there was only one last finalizing session with Akira before she was free. Free at last from him and his tantalizing smiles, his narrow eyes that infiltrated her head and left her with confused thoughts, free at last from all his persuasive words and sly touches that made her wonder stuff that just perhaps she shouldn't be wondering…

But she shook her head. She wouldn't think about Akira today, not if it was within her control.

As she reached the front of the school, the drive in zone, she furrowed her brows in confusion. She had told her driver to pick her up today, she vaguely remembered doing so, but there was no familiar black Bentley in sight, only a silver Mercedes Benz. In fact, it was the only car in the college drive way. A quick glance at her watch told her she had taken her time talking to her friends after class and the journey through the school halls had also been taken leisurely.

But surely her driver wouldn't have left? An infuriating heat washed through her; if he had, then his service with the Tamiko family was over, she would make sure of it.

She eyed the Mercedes carefully. There was the slightest possibility that her parents had purchased a new car that day and not have told her. But then, she had made them promised not to after an irksome experience a few years ago, involving her, a new driver, a new car, and a couple of waiting hours. It was at that moment, as she contemplated approaching the car to be safe, that a person came from the other side of the car, the side hidden from her view. A familiar person with low swinging hair and a characterized stance, as if the very air itself was a feminine curiosity that he longed to handle.

Oh no, Kei thought, groaning inwardly. So much for avoiding him today.

She watched, almost fearful, as he approached her and offered a smile that if she had not known him with the reputation that she did, she would say was half timid. In his left hand was a single red rose, held precariously and she hesitated, but took it when he gave.

"Thanks," she said, not daring to be rude. Avoiding his entrapping eyes, she asked weakly, "You wouldn't happen to know where my driver is, would you? He drives a black Bentley? Latest model?"

"Yeah. I told him I would take you home, if that's alright." She hadn't really been expecting him to know and startled by his response, she looked up and found herself in the very place she had been avoiding initially: the depths of his impish eyes.

"Kei," he said, and she was caught by the underlying coax in his voice; unwilling, as reluctant as she was, she could do nothing more than hear him out now.

He was suddenly closer, much too close for comfort, and he gestured towards the rose that she now held.

"Just one rose this time," he said simply. "To say be my Valentine." And as an afterthought, with a twinkle in his eye, "Please."

She couldn't say she had been expecting this, yet she couldn't say it came much as a surprise either. Flowers could be sent by anyone on Valentine's day; the fact that it was Akira should have made it less important considering he was a patron of many ladies. But in a way, because it _was _Akira, she realized she to deny him was halfway to impossible.

"Say something," he laughed, and she realized his hand laid lightly on her wrist. Credential place to touch, she thought weakly. Gets him all the girls.

She tore her eyes away from his but his gaze followed hers, imploring a reply. As his other hand found her other wrist, and his fingers played the back of her hand, she felt an intense flush riding through her and swallowed. She had to say something. After a while:

"The rose petals made an awful mess," she murmured, inspecting her toes as they peeked out at her from her black school shoes.

There was a dazed silence, then he erupted into amused laughter, apologizing profusely in the end.

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AN: Please review! Thanks to **martian doll, lelepanne, kiri, BlackAmoria, yukihana, Cooking Pot, cuppajava**.


	5. Fifth Installment

Disclaimer: Anything appearing here that has previously appeared in any other form does not belong to me. No copyright infringement intended.

AN: For me, this is the turning point of the story but it could just be me. I guess there are a lot of other points that could be turning points. Well, happy reading and please review!

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Kiss Me Twice, Girl

5: The roar of the crowd was deafening, a resounding throbbing in her ears as she made her way slowly into the stadium. She swallowed. It was just as she had suspected: the Eitoku basketball stadium was packed, filled so the number of people still filtering in behind her would be pushed in like a frantic jam of groceries into an undersized bag.

She racked her brains, trying desperately to remember why she had agreed to come in the first place…but all she could draw up was the memory of the touch of his lips on her trembling cheek and his words as they rolled smoothly, repeatedly, through her head.

_Come to the game tomorrow, Kei. I'm playing…I'll play for you._

He would play for her. She was laughing hysterically inside her head. The vow she had made a while ago about never falling for Akira's lame lines and clever smile seemed, indeed, a while ago and here she was, appearing at a basketball game, mixing with people from all walks of life for _him_.

She made her way down the steps of the benches, searching nervously for an empty seat, or a place to stand. Then someone called, calming all other noises as most people turn to see what had caught the attention of one of the F4.

"Kei!" Akira called, his long legs easily eating the distance of three steps at a time as he endeavored to reach her. "I'm glad you came. Now I won't be wasting my playing on another girl."

Then he slid her hand into his considerably larger one and pulled her down towards the court where fourteen players decked in blue and black warmed their reflexes, their rippling muscles providing eye candy to the females populating two thirds of the assembly. She casted a sidelong glance at her attendant, himself wearing the ingratiating colours of the Eitoku basketball team. He was striking in them, undeniably so, and his attractiveness was accompanied by a vast enthusiasm that brought an engaging smile to her lips.

He saw it, and congratulated himself.

"The game's starting in half a minute and I'll be on court for pretty much the whole game," he said apologetically. He glanced around and beckoned to a nearby figure. "This is Sugo, he's one of our reserves. Sugo, take care of my baby tonight."

"Sure thing," the burlier player said easily.

Akira smiled. "I'll play for you," he said lightly, again, then he was gone, leaving the two of them alone. Sugo lead her to the sidelines, where he offered a chair with a polite smile.

"So you're here to watch Akira play?" he said conversationally.

"Well, naturally," she replied dryly as she took off her Prada coat. "Didn't all the girls here come to see him play?"

He laughed, delighted; the last few girls his teammate had brought had possessed no inkling of humour. "Well, actually, some come for Tsukasa, some for Rui, a lot for Jiro. My own girl came to watch me warm the benches tonight. Or at least that's what she told me." He scratched his head.

"Is it always this packed when they play?" she asked, glancing up at the full bleachers ominously.

"Always," Sugo confirmed. "And they always play, so our games are always full house."

"Always play?" she exclaimed. "But that takes up four out of five court positions for your team! How bout you and that other guys on the teams? Isn't it a little unfair?"

He shrugged, falling silent for a moment as the whistle was blown and the game started at a furious pace. She averted her eyes too, watching the seamless interaction between the four F4 players, with an occasional thought for their fifth member. Their opposition was helpless, their defence falling apart as Soujiro and Akira stole the ball time and time again. The first shot was scored by Rui, an incredible three pointer that made the stadium explode into cheers and Sugo answered her question, a barely missed bitter smile on his face.

"They are F4, you know. I've known them for quite a while, but to argue with them _is_ kinda stupid no matter how long or how well you know them."

"You seemed to be in Akira's good books."

"You seemed to be in better," was his quick reply and he glanced at her slyly. Then he laughed. "Akira has always been easy to get along with. And the others, well, basketball makes them agreeable. I can treat them as friends, but I still have to watch my step."

"I suppose."

Akira's steal this time was slick, earning him an annoyed glare from that particular player, number fourteen. The crowd cheered their appreciation and when he had disposed of the ball, Akira turned to grin at her. He mouthed, again, _playing for you_, and she groaned in embarrassment as catcalls followed from the more unscrupulous members of the audience. His grin grew wider before he turned automatically to receive a pass from Rui. And then he was off to the opposite end of the court, tossing the ball confidently through the hoop, readily accepting the roar of applause that came.

"Not that they aren't good," Sugo added. "That's one of the reasons why the coach doesn't really mind them playing at every game."

"I can see that," Kei said dazed. "That was _another_ three pointer from Hanazawa Rui! And it's only been…" she glanced at the clock, "…fifteen minutes into the game."

"Rui's good," Sugo agreed, almost proudly. "He takes every chance possible for a three pointer…and he gets it every time too. Well, pretty much every time."

"Really?" Kei looked at the lanky boy drifting past her with new interest. So close was the attention she paid him, she failed to notice the action on court had now drifted her way and she jumped a little as Rui lunged to intercept a pass. But just as quickly as he had obtained the ball, it was gone again as the quietest F4 member was shoved aside by the familiar Number Fourteen. The crowd fell silent before a scattering of shocked whispers was heard.

"What the hell?" Sugo mumbled, glancing furiously at the referee who seemed to have noticed nothing. "That was obvious enough to be a foul. That stupid ref didn't even blink!"

Her companion for the night fell into silence as the game continued, and she glanced at him, amused, but he failed to notice, his dark eyes watching the offending player sharply. Occasionally, he would draw in a sharp intake of breath at another shove or grab, followed by a glare at the time and time again oblivious referee.

Then the uproar came as Fourteen barreled into Akira and the boy stumbled back before falling, his shorts squeaking him across the floorboards. An irritated expression flitted across his face, but it disappeared as he leapt to his feet, along with the rest of the stadium. Kei realised Sugo too, was standing, balancing on the edges of the court, his face contorted and gesturing explicitly with his hands.

"That was definitely a foul!" he yelled. "You ignore that one you friggin ref and I'll come on and pound your face in, you hear me! It was a FOUL! FOUL, you fool!"

She was almost afraid as Sugo's angry claims disappeared amid the rest of the crowd's and glanced on court to see what Akira had to say about it all. While the embarrassed ref rushed to fix the problem, he talked fast and furious with the rest of his team and they listened, though edgily, turning around often to glare at the Fourteen, who was currently arguing with the ref. She saw Tsukasa crack his knuckles menacingly before barking out a few, short instructions and the team separated with no violence to follow.

Her eyes followed over Akira as he left, secretly embarrassed to find herself anxiously checking for signs of injuries be it physical or knowing him, egoistical. As if he could read her mind, he turned and a reassuring smile spread on his face. The reassurance turned to cheek as he lifted a toast to her with the ball the referee handed him. In return, the grace of a smile lingered on her lips as the game continued.

Sugo returned to his seat, a bashful apology on his face.

"Sorry," he said. "Got a bit caught up there…but you understand, the stupid ref…" He shook his head furiously, not allowing himself to continue. She assured him that it bothered her not one bit, and they began a discussion on people who never did the job they were paid to do, all the while keeping a steady eye out on the game. It ran smoothly for a while and the previous incident went by, forgotten, as Fourteen played a bitterly subdued game.

When her discussion with Sugo had ceased, Kei turned her attention back onto court. Akira was a character, she thought, grudgingly admiring as she watched him play with every enthusiasm perceivable. The realization that there was more to him than savvy good looks and amazingly proficient dressing skills, was at times, a little disconcertingly, but nevertheless left a tingling sense of pleasantry in her. Perhaps, she admitted to herself a little reluctantly, perhaps there was someone worth knowing beyond the smile after all.

Her dreams fell apart when rough yells pierced through the air. She shook her head to dispel any lingering thoughts and focused on the source of the trouble.

Tsukasa held Number Fourteen by the front of his uniform and Kei watched, horrified, as he slammed the player onto the ground brutally and proceeded to climb on top of him. A look of utter loathing and disgust filled every line on his face, and his fist was drawn back into the air, ready to plummet cruelly into the quailing Fourteen's features when another strong arm stopped him. Almost kindly, Akira pulled his friend off his would have been victim.

A heated argument ensued between F4. Tsukasa appeared less than happy as he gestured heavily, the meaning of his angry shouts lost underneath the pandemonium of the crowd. He only stopped when Akira lurched forward having been pushed from behind.

Player Fourteen had recovered and he stood there, a glaring challenge in his eyes as he gave the four boys a piece of his mind and snatches of his argument came to her through the roar of the crowd.

"…_just because you're F4…don't rule the…arrogant swines…fair game for all…"_

She thought his claims were a little off considering he had been the one to have started the foul play. The loathing gaze on his face made her conclude that he was an unreasonably angry man. Averting her eyes to F4, she almost fell off her chair.

F4 stood still, locked in place and unmoving, _listening_. Their faces were blank, a careful guard from any emotion or thought that might have been running through their heads at that point in time; their stance was unmoving but unwelcoming, menacing in their lack of reaction…it would have sent her running and she felt a little abashed at Fourteen's obvious oblivion. They listened politely, if frostily, to Fourteen's end before one of them moved. In half a moment, Akira's face had split into a clenching fury and his fist fell heavily onto Fourteen's face with a sickening crunch.

Kei heard a gasp of horror nearby and as her feet brought her out of the stadium, her footsteps peltering rapidly onto the wooden ground as she sought to escape the roar of approval from the crowd, as she tried to rid the image of Akira's delicate fingers balled up and no longer gentle, slamming into the other's jaw, the image of the angry but almost eager expression on Akira's handsome face, she realized the gasp had been her own.

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AN: Thanks for reading and thanks to all reviewers! Thanks to **yukihana, lelepanne, BlackAmoria, martian doll, cuppajava**.


	6. Sixth Installment

Disclaimer: Anything appearing here that has previously appeared in any other form does not belong to me. No copyright infringement intended.

AN: Sorry for the long break, but exams and all that rot were awful pressure. Don't worry I haven't forgotten this story, and I think my aim is to finish this before I die and all this unadulterated fan fiction time left now that I've finished school FOREVER can only help. Thanks to all reviewers for the last chapter, I don't have your names here with me but thanks.

Anyway, happy reading and please review!

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Kiss Me Twice, Girl

6: Eitoku was in a temporary state of busyness as students moved between classes, pushing and shoving and chatting amongst themselves. From an overhang above a particular courtyard patterned with elaborate fountains, Soujiro leaned out from the balcony rails and observed the moving ground mass. He followed the path of a junior, a pretty thing with skin the colour of moonshine, but a thudding sound brought him back to the problem at hand.

Or rather, Akira's problem at hand.

With a sigh, he turned around and looked on coolly as Akira knocked his forehead against a large stone pillar, apparently his latest method of wallowing in self-pity.

"Akira, stop it," Tsukasa said, irritated. "You're hurting yourself."

"I don't care," was Akira's muffled reply. He looked up at his friends briefly and held up his palm desperately. "I was so close…this close! And I blew it." He turned on Tsukasa suddenly, wild accusation in his eyes. "You! I should have just let you punch the guy!"

"Well, why didn't you?" Tsukasa growled.

"I don't know!"

With a groan, Akira returned to abusing his head against the pillar.

"Stop it!" Tsukasa yelled, frustrated.

"No," replied Akira stubbornly.

"Firstly, Akira, that's pissing us off to hell," Rui intervened. "Secondly, you're damaging your brain– "

"Thirdly, you're mussing your hair," Soujiro said off handedly, at which Akira immediately ceased, standing up straight, hands checking through his long locks carefully. Rui rolled his eyes.

Having fixed his hair, Akira sighed and moved to stand beside Soujiro. His friend punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"Get over it, mate. We'll just chuck her a red note– "

"No!" and Soujiro jerked, taken back by the sharpness of Akira's voice. "I said she's mine. There will be _no red note_."

"Well, you haven't done a brilliant job," Rui said, his tone frank.

Tsukasa groaned. "Oh, shut up Rui. Why are you giving him more of a reason to whine and complain? Honestly, we haven't heard the end of this since the game."

Akira stared down at the fountains, the reflection of the water sparkling in his eyes.

"Maybe I should just go drown myself," he said thoughtfully.

Soujiro sighed, exasperated. "For goodness sake, Akira, don't be such a pathetic sob over it– " but Akira didn't appear to be listening.

"Drown myself." He turned his head so he was staring at Rui straight in the eyes and cried dramatically, "I shall no longer continue my life as a failure. Goodbye, farewell!"

And to the shock of students passing by directly beneath, he threw his entire self from the balcony of the overhang.

Screams began to vibrate in the air as he hit the water with the most tremendous, sickening crack and people rushed to crowd the edges of the fountain. For everyone everywhere, it was panic and hysteria as they slid their eyes frantically over the disturbed water, watching for the poor soul's body to resurface.

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Something was crying inside Kei and she didn't think it would ever, ever stop.

She pushed past all the pulsating bodies, struggling to reach the front, the edge of the fountain pool, while at the same time a voice inside was telling her to turn around and run away because if she saw Akira's body folded and shattered, dark limbs and hair faded, she would disintegrate into nothing.

If anyone asked, she couldn't tell them why she cared. It wasn't as if he had done anything substantial for her really, except for those flowers on Valentine's Day. Except for making her heart shiver when his lips had caressed ever so lightly across her cheek. Except for the awesome model he had created for their History assignment, which he had had to do all by himself, overnight, since she had refused to talk to him since the game.

Except for the way he always seemed to be there for no apparent reason at all but just to talk to her.

She reached the front, her heart pounding too loudly in the silence that had suddenly come about. She blinked.

Akira was sitting in the water, saturated to the bone. His clothes clung to his body, muscles drawn taut from the cold, his limp fine hair framing a forlorn face. He had caught sight of her and his pale ashen lips had just turned in a diffident smile when their contact was broken in a sudden movement as three pairs of arms jerked him from where he sat.

"You are _the_ biggest idiot," Soujiro fumed, his face disgusted as he let go of Akira and wiped his hands gingerly on the front of his shirt. He turned to the swarm of people before him, of which between a curious litany was beginning. "Alright kids, show's over. Akira's done this before, and he's not dead so back to your classes."

Not dead, Kei thought as she watched the four of them leave.

He passed her a timid glance over his shoulder and somewhere she felt relieved.

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"Rui, I've got it!"

"I don't care."

"I've got the answer, the solution to my problem."

"Akira, I don't care."

"Did you see her face when she saw that I wasn't dead? She– "

"Akira, you will be dead soon if you don't hang up now. Because it's damn well two in the morning and I _want_ to sleep."

"Just hear me out, Rui. She was _relieved_ when she knew I wasn't dead. She cares! She can avoid me for days, she can nearly wreck my perfect grade in History, but she _cares_ if I get hurt or not! I just need to get hurt again, not badly enough to impede myself for life, but enough."

There was a thoughtful silence of a sort. Then:

"Rui, will you break my arm or something?"

"Gladly."

"Thanks so much! Good night Rui, I've got to call Jiro now to tell him!"

Hanazawa Rui gritted his teeth and buried his head under his pillow.

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"Kei! Kei!"

She paused mid stride when she heard Julie's voice, enticing those behind her to glare and mutter and walk around her inconsiderate form. Her friend caught up with her, pretty face torn with wild exhilaration.

"Kei! Have you heard?"

Puzzled, she shook her head.

"Akira's in the hospital!"

And everything was suddenly falling to a sudden halt around her, faces blurring and blending together and she couldn't hear anything anymore, only the distant hum of what ought to be distinct sounds but weren't.

What had happened between now and yesterday? Perhaps he had caught pneumonia from being soaked to the bone and was devastatingly ill and close to death and she would forever regret ignoring him and not telling him that–

That she cared.

Startled by the thought, she jerked back into a state of semi-consciousness and Julie's voice comes nattering back to her, talking as if the news was just gossip and not an amazingly important issue of life and death like it really was.

"…but it's just a broken leg and they say…"

Or not.

Kei found it suddenly easier to breath again.

"…apparently he fell down the stairs of something. Hey," Julie said suddenly, eyes sparkling as if she had suddenly had a revelation. "Do you want to go see him?"

"What, now?"

"No, next year." Julie rolled her eyes. "Duh, now!"

"But we've got classes and…"

"And all that rot! Come on, it'll just be for a while."

"I don't know," Kei said weakly.

"Come on. We can play the sympathetic friends, who of course he falls in love with because we're so– "

_Come to the game tomorrow, Kei. I'm playing…I'll play for you._

Kei squared her shoulders.

"Alright then. Let's go."

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AN: The next update will be coming soon, hope you all enjoyed this one. Please review!


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